


Dinner Time

by jetaimehiddles (certifiablemess)



Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF
Genre: Actor Tom Hiddleston, Dad Tom Hiddleston, Dinner, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Eating Play-Doh, F/M, Family, Fluff, Tea Parties, play-doh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 11:52:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5089730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/certifiablemess/pseuds/jetaimehiddles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anna gets home with dinner to find her husband and their daughter making some food of their own. With Play-Doh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner Time

**Author's Note:**

> One-shot based off of this prompt: http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/129556949457/imagine-your-otps-young-child-making-a-play-doh
> 
> As soon as I read that prompt, I could just IMAGINE this happening.
> 
> Enjoy! x

Tonight was one of those rare nights, where Tom made it home before Anna. While his shooting schedule is forever fluctuating, his wife’s is fixed and guarantees her more time with their 3 year old daughter, Chelsea. She looks a lot like him; curly blonde hair and thin pink lips, but she has her mother’s brown eyes that make Tom all but melt whenever he sees them.

 

So naturally, as soon as he got home, he paid the babysitter and gave his undivided  attention to their beautiful child. That’s how he and Chelsea end up sat in the play room, where dozens of empty Play-Doh containers of various colours have been discarded on the floor. Or at least Tom is sat down, cross-legged, because even at full height Chelsea is nowhere near as tall as her Dad when he's sitting. They had tried to make a castle, and Chelsea placed a crown on her head and his, but halfway through she got bored and grabbed her mini tea set and who was Tom to refuse a tea party?

He was ordered to make some food from the Play-Doh, and Chelsea was doing the same, when his phone alerted him of a text message from Anna. _Nearly home with dinner! Hope you haven't been feeding her snacks all evening._ He smiled, typing out a quick reply. _I would never. But if she says that she got snacks, it wasn't from me!_ _Very funny, Tom. x_ “Daddy, look what I made!” Chelsea exclaims, tugging on his arm and pointing at his saucer.  
Tom grins when he sees her excited smile, and gasps when he sees her creation. It's a little patty of Play-Doh made from an explosion of colours and, if he's being honest, Tom isn't quite sure what it is."Wow, you made this?!" He asks, astoundment in his voice, pulling her onto his lap.  
Chelsea nods rapidly, her little face lighting up. "I made a cake!" She giggles, wrapping her arms around his neck.

 

"It’s so pretty, Chelsea! What flavour is it?"

"Chocolate!"

"Chocolate cake, of course! It looks delicious!"

 

"I made it for you, Daddy!" She says, poking him in the chest to make her point.

Tom could cry at how precious she is. Instead he grins and he wraps her up in a tight squeeze, to which she giggles. "Aw, darling, you shouldn’t have,” he coos, kissing her cheek.

 

Neither of them hear the front door opening over Chelsea’s giggling. Anna juggles her keys and the bag of takeout, barely making it through the door, hearing her child’s melodic laughter floating from the other room. She smiles to herself, knowing that Tom devotes every single free moment he has to Chelsea and to making her happy. He really is the best father, Anna thinks. She’s about to announce her arrival, but before she does she overhears their daughter’s rather interesting proposition.

 

"Eat it!” Chelsea picks up the piece of Play-Doh and sticks it in front of her father’s face.

"You want me to eat it?” He asks with bewilderment, and this time it is all genuine. He tries not to hesitate, because he can tell that his daughter is being 100% serious when she says that she wants him to eat the dough. 

"Yeah!” She exclaims, a great, proud grin on her face. 

 

Though she has no visuals, Anna can just imagine the look on Tom’s face: jaw dropped, eyebrows raised in confusion of what to say or do, but still a smile on his lips to not offend their little girl. Quietly, Anna puts down her bags and shuffles across to the archway that leads to the playroom to see his reaction for herself.

 

"I don’t know, honey, Mummy’s going to be home with dinner soon—“ She hears Tom say, diplomatically, and she has to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing. 

“Daddy!” Chelsea whines, a pout threatening to make an appearance.

Tom sees the little furrow of his girl’s brow and, not wanting to break her precious little heart, he takes a bite of the Play-Doh patty. He had never been so glad to be an actor than he was in that moment. The saltiness attacks his tastebuds immediately and he smiles, or tries to smile, to hide the fact that he is very close to gagging right now.

 

At that exact moment, someone giggles but it isn’t Chelsea. When he looks up, Tom sees Anna standing at the doorway with a hand covering her laughing mouth.

 

“Mummy!” Chelsea shouts, elated at the sight of her mother and immediately takes off to hug her. As soon as he’s sure that Chelsea can’t see him, Tom’s face screws up and he sticks out his tongue, as if airing it out will get the taste out of his mouth. If anything, it only made Anna laugh more.

Anna grins, and picks up her daughter. “Sweetheart! Look at you, my little Princess - and Prince,” she says, smooching Chelsea and nodding at the crown on her husband’s head. She smirks at Tom, who bows in response.

 

“Mummy, have some cake! I made some for Daddy!” Chelsea orders, putting her tiny hands on Anna’s face to make them look at each other.

From the floor, Tom lifts the plate and challenges, “It’s delicious, darling, do try some.”

 

Anna rolls her eyes at her husband and turns back to her daughter, “Oh, honey, I’d love to, but Mummy’s got your favourite for dinner—"

“Pasta!” The toddler exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air.

 

Tom's jaw drops at how easily his wife got their daughter to forget about the Play-Doh. Why didn’t he think to mention pasta? 

 

“Yeah! Why don’t you go wash up, Daddy will help you, right?” Anna directs at Tom, grinning at his reaction.

 

Blinking a few times, Tom nods and stands. He takes off his crown, and places it on Anna’s head, grinning at her. "Off we go, poppet, let’s get you cleaned up!” He says cheerfully to Chelsea, as she raises her arms out to him and he takes over, carrying their little girl towards the bathroom. 

 

 

While Anna unpacks the takeaway containers in the kitchen, she can hear her husband and daughter singing from the bathroom. When he was a child, Tom had learned to wash his hands for as long as it took to sing _Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star_ so that's how he teaches Chelsea. Hearing them sing together, no matter how off-key they may be, will always be one of Anna’s favourite sounds that never fail to make her smile like a loon.

 

She hears Tom put Chelsea in her seat at the dinner table before he makes his way into the kitchen. He wraps his arms around Anna, hugging her tightly as a silent and intimate hello.

 

“Do you even still need dinner?” She jokes. “I'll bet that Play-Doh filled you right up."

Tom pouts, pulling away to stand beside her. “Very funny, darling. I can still taste the salt,” he whines.

“Oh, poor baby.” Anna coos, pouting. She brushes a hand over his cheek, like she would do with Chelsea if ever she were sad. 

 

Dropping the frown, Tom makes a noise of disgust. He sticks out his tongue again and asks, rather seriously, “Do you think you could die from eating Play-Doh? Like, sodium overload or something?” 

“How much did you eat?"

Tom holds up a fingers to the approximate shape and size of a ten pence coin to which Anna laughs, shaking her head.

“I think you’ll be fine,” she says warmly, kissing his grimace away. Just as they meet, Anna pulls away with a groan - and not the good kind. “Mm, honey, I love you but you need to brush your teeth."

Grinning wolfishly, Tom pulls her closer and teases, “What - afraid of a little Play-Doh?"

 

"Tom!” Anna squeals, giggling as her lips meet his again. She doesn’t pull away this time, they just enjoy this little moment. He might taste like a bag of crisps, but his soft lips and the gentle caress of his hand against her cheek make up for it. Anna forces back a smile when they break apart, and shoves Tom playfully away from her. “Go brush your teeth, you silly goose,” she orders, with a little bubble of laughter escaping her .

 

Tom chuckles and kisses her on the cheek one more time, before whispering into her ear, "I love you too, darling."

 


End file.
